


push

by honestground



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Link is well-endowed because ??? reasons, Vaginal Sex, self-indulgent reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 06:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestground/pseuds/honestground
Summary: “I want to have sex,” Zelda says.Link blinks. It takes him a moment to find his voice. “… what, with me?”





	push

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [on tumblr](https://honestground.tumblr.com/post/165410052962/push). Trying to gradually cross-post all my fics. Enjoy~

When it comes to Link, Zelda is used to having to push a little. 

She’s had to since childhood. She had to push him to enrol in the Knight Academy and take his studies seriously. She still has to push him to wake up at a reasonable time. She once literally pushed him off a cliff. She is not unfamiliar with pushing him, or with the notion of taking charge, but this is… different. 

It’s been almost a year of living on the surface. Almost a year of living together. Almost a year of  _being_  together, finally, almost a year of long-awaited kisses and whispered endearments. And… almost a year of Link kissing her goodnight at her bedroom door, leaving Zelda to fight with herself as she watches him retreat to his own bedroom, desperately wanting to follow.

After almost an  _entire_  year of wanting just a little more, of hoping that Link would take initiative, of whispering  _it’s getting late_  and  _maybe we should go to bed_  between kisses and Link missing her implication entirely, of Link being sweet and wonderful but utterly clueless, Zelda thinks she may have to push him again.

So this time, when Link leans in to kiss her goodnight, Zelda fists both hands in the front of his shirt and drags him in closer. He responds with gusto, doesn’t seem surprised when she traces his bottom lip with her tongue, but still his hands remain on her waist, her bedroom door remains closed, and Zelda realises she’s  _really_  going to have to spell this out for him, so she pulls back and looks him right in the eyes.

“I want to have sex,” she says. 

Link blinks. It takes him a moment to find his voice. “… what, with me?”

She resists the urge to swat him. “ _Yes_. Of course.”

He stares at her like he’s never seen her before. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“ _Now_?”

“I—” Zelda falters on that one, but quickly recovers. “Well, yes, I—I suppose we’re going to bed anyway, so.”

Link’s eyes—bluer than the sky back home—move over her face, searching for any sign of apprehension, any hint of doubt. His hands still rest on her gently, as if afraid he might break her, but as she defiantly stares him down, she feels the weight of his touch intensify, the heat of his palms sinking through her dress and into her skin.

“You really want to?” he asks, softly, like he hardly dares to believe it. “Are you sure?”

Zelda nods, her heart in her throat forcing her voice into a whisper. “If you want to.” 

Link takes a deep breath. He’s worrying his lower lip between his teeth, and Zelda wants to lean up and run her tongue over it again. He exhales. 

“I do,” he says.

And he kisses her. 

One hand cupping her cheek, the other pulling her in at the waist, he kisses her like she’s been wanting him to kiss her for  _months:_ hungry and hot, almost greedy with fervor, and Zelda moans against him, fumbles behind her for the doorknob, and drags him into her room. 

Link doesn’t break contact even as they stumble a little, making quiet, happy noises into her mouth. He pushes up close of his own volition, and Zelda feels a thrill run through her when she becomes aware of what’s nudging against her stomach. Not one for wasting time, she breaks the kiss and steps back to work at the ties on her dress. 

“Clothes off, I think,” she tells him, and Link shoots her a crooked grin and pulls his shirt over his head.

The low light from her oil lamps casts gentle shadows over his broad chest, and Zelda takes a seat on her bed to enjoy the view, wriggling with glee as she tugs at her own clothing. She doesn’t hesitate as she pulls off her dress, feeling nothing but triumphant, because  _finally,_  after months of deep kisses and not-so-subtle glances that went overlooked, she has Link half-naked in her bedroom and no time for nerves.

But that confidence only lasts as long as it takes for Link to drop his pants.

Zelda’s hands fly to her mouth, too late to muffle her surprised gasp. “ _Oh_.”

Link’s head jerks up immediately, and he doesn’t miss where her gaze is fixed. “What? What is it?” He looks down at himself, then back up at her, brow furrowing in concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing!” Zelda says quickly. “I just—I wasn’t expecting…” she gestures at him vaguely, embarrassed. “ _That_.” 

Link’s eyebrows shoot up so far they almost disappear into his hair. He glances down again, then back up. “What were you expecting?”

Zelda laughs, but that does little but make Link appear even more alarmed, so she stifles herself quickly. “Oh, Link, I just—not something quite so—you know.”

Link’s eyes go wide. “What?”

“You  _know_ ,” Zelda says, but when nothing happens except Link’s eyes go impossibly wider and he gives a minute shake of his head, she realises maybe, impossibly, he  _doesn’t_  know? She quashes down all embarrassment and looks him in the eye. 

“Link,” she tells him, “you’re huge.” 

The anxious expression slips from Link’s face, only to be replaced with a look of utter confusion. Then he makes a quiet, incredulous noise. “No, I’m not.” 

Zelda scoffs in return. “Yes, you are,” she says, and when his frown only deepens she continues. “I mean, obviously I’m only going off what I’ve read in books, but…” 

Link is still holding his trousers, and he moves them to shield himself from her view a little, twisting the fabric in his hands as he stands there in silence for a long moment. Then he says, in a very small voice, “Is it bad?”

“What? No! Link, here—”

Zelda discards her dress from where she still had it clasped in her lap, not missing Link’s quiet squeak of surprise as he watches her stand, a soft blush spreading across his face as she moves closer. He’s never seen her in any state of undress before, but Zelda decides they’re past the point of modesty, and besides, she’s still in her underthings—Link is baring more skin than she is. 

He’s holding his breath as she steps up to him, resisting only slightly when she prises his trousers from his grip and drops them on the floor. Zelda lets her eyes drift down, to where he’s softened just a little, but brings her gaze up to meet Link’s again as she reaches out. “May I?”

He swallows and nods, and Zelda relishes his shaky sigh as she gently takes him into her hand. He’s still slightly rigid, and she takes a moment to just enjoy the heat of him, the velvety smoothness of his skin, feeling the weight of him in her palm and Link’s own hands sliding up her arms to rest on her shoulders. 

At his widest point, she barely manages to wrap her fingers around him fully, the tips of her middle finger and thumb only just touching even though he isn’t entirely erect anymore. She’s delighted to note how that seems to be changing, however, feeling him grow firmer despite his misgivings.

“See?” she says quietly. “You’re just fine.”

Link’s voice shakes a little when he speaks. “I thought I was normal.”

Zelda laughs softly, smiling up at him. “Nothing about you is normal, Link. Nothing about you is  _average_.”

He cracks a smile at that, taking his bottom lip between his teeth again, so Zelda leans up to kiss him. His hands move up to gently cradle her jaw, relaxing a little against her as he kisses her back softly, shifting carefully closer and more comfortably into her grasp.

To assure him further—or to satisfy her own curiosity, she isn’t sure—she gives him a hesitant stroke, his soft skin sliding pleasantly against her palm. Link moans quietly into her mouth, and so she does it again. And again and again, her fist moving carefully along the impressive length of him, until he’s panting against her lips and trembling. 

“Zelda,” he says weakly, catching her wrist in his hand and stilling her movements, “I—I won’t be able to…”

“Okay,” she breathes, carefully loosening her grip on him, her hands sliding over his hips momentarily before she draws back, raising her arms slightly. “Undress me?” 

Her brassiere is made from a plain white stretchy fabric, and she doesn’t have much for it to hold up anyway, but Link’s eyes are enormous as he pulls the garment up and over her head. Zelda smooths her hair down nervously, keeping her gaze averted, only looking up once she hears Link’s heavy exhale, finding him staring unabashedly at the new expanse of skin available to him, face pink and eyes soft and warm. 

She steps into his embrace again as he reaches for her, the contact of his calloused fingers at the base of her ribs making them both shiver. Zelda smooths her hands over Link’s chest, around his torso and down his back, tilting her head up to kiss him again as she pulls him closer, his palm finding her breast at the same time their hips connect.

Zelda’s breath hitches, pushing her chest into his touch and her body harder against him, feeling the heat of him pulse gently against her lower belly. Link’s other hand is in her hair, keeping her close, his breathing ragged and mouth clumsy and eager against hers as she guides him back to the bed.

His hand moves from her breast to her lower back as she climbs onto the mattress, Link following her down as she lays back on the pillows. He kneels over her, confident and sure in the familiarity of kissing her, but his fingers still hesitantly trace her ribcage, so Zelda takes both his wrists and drags his palms up over her breasts.

“You’re allowed to touch me,” she says, encouraging him to knead her gently. “I want you to.” 

“I just… I don’t know what I’m doing,” Link replies quietly. He strokes his thumb over a nipple, eyes snapping up to her face at the soft noise she makes in response. “Is this good?” 

“Yes—you could— _oh_ ,” she says, because Link leans down to trace the nipple with his tongue instead, and her hands weave their way into his hair. “You could do  _that_.”

He’s cautious, traversing her chest like he’s afraid he’s overstepping, teasing at sensitive skin with gentle kisses. He marks his way down her torso, attentive to her small noises and soft breaths, the way she squirms a little beneath him, the quiet, fluttering laugh that escapes her when he kisses the soft spot just below her navel.

The both of them pause when Link’s bottom lip skims her underwear, and for a moment Zelda laments not choosing more exciting delicates. Not that she has much in the way of lingerie, but Karane had gifted her a set for her eighteenth birthday—sky blue with little bow accents,  _to match Link’s eyes_ , she’d said, when Zelda had commented on the colour,  _considering they’re for his eyes only._ Zelda had flushed bright red and swatted her for the quip, but now…

But now, Link looks at her with a quiet reverence regardless of her plain underthings, and Zelda casts aside her thoughts of satin and lace and focuses on the fingers curling lightly over her waistband, on Link’s soft, eager expression, his eyes full of adoration.

“Can I?” he asks breathlessly, and Zelda silently lifts her hips, her hands fisting nervously in the sheets as Link carefully tugs her underwear down, determinedly watching the garment as it slips over her knees and calves, past her ankles and onto the floor. 

Only once she’s completely bare before him does he turn his eyes back to her, and Zelda feels all the breath leave her as colour floods Link’s face.

“Oh,” he says, shifting closer again, his curious gaze fixed on the apex of her thighs as he eases her legs apart with one hand. Zelda sighs and shifts her hips when he graces her with a feather-light touch, and then, emboldened by her reaction, he runs the tip of his finger down the length of her.

Zelda gasps at the contact. “ _Link_.”

“Oh, wow,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers away, apparently transfixed by the wetness that clings to them. He bites his lip again as he looks up at her, and Zelda feels a slight ripple of unease. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, fighting the urge to close her legs. 

“Nothing, I was just—I was wondering if I…” Link swallows. “Can I kiss you? Here?” 

And he runs his fingers over her again, Zelda quivering under the gentle pressure, heat clenching in her body from high in her throat to where she opens to him. Her voice comes out as a whisper. “If you want to.”

“I do,” Link says immediately, shuffling down the mattress. “I really… I…” and he lowers his head. 

Zelda is not unfamiliar with out-of-body experiences, but not like this—Gods,  _never_  like this. Link kisses her  _there_  like he kisses her lips: hungry and thorough but slow and methodical, like she’s something to be savoured, and when he opens his mouth and drags his tongue over her, Zelda arches clear off the bed. 

“Oh,” she breathes, her fingers fisting in his hair again. “Oh,  _yes_.” 

Link sighs contentedly, pushing closer and exhaling softly, his fingers curled lightly over her thighs as he kisses and licks. Zelda whines and rocks her hips up a little, Link making an encouraging noise when she does, and so she does it again, and again, until nothing exists but the rushing of blood in her ears and the wet slide of Link’s mouth against her and the coiling of heat low in her belly.

She’s getting close, she knows, and so she tugs gently at Link’s hair. “Link,” she says softly, voice quivering under the attention of his lips. "Wait.”

He raises his head, his shy, pleased expression making Zelda laugh. Link grins back at her, wiping his mouth on his knuckles. “Good?” 

“ _Good_ ,” Zelda agrees, propping herself up a little on the pillows, beckoning him toward her. “Come here.”

She can taste herself on his lips when he kisses her, hearing him echo her when she moans into it. His kisses are soft and languid, content in the simplicity of his mouth on hers, but Zelda is impatient, vividly aware of him pressed against her thigh, the pulse between her legs turned hot and urgent at the proximity. 

She breaks the kiss but holds eye contact, hoping she doesn’t have to spell it out for him again. They’re both breathing hard and trembling, Link’s forearms planted either side of her on the mattress, mere inches separating them, and Zelda significantly wraps her legs around Link’s hips, giving him the most pointed stare she can muster.

Link exhales shakily. “Are you sure?” he asks, even as he allows her to draw him in. He glances down uncertainly between her legs, expression painted in concern. She thinks perhaps he’s only just beginning to realise the predicament of his size, and when she follows his gaze downwards her own confidence might falter a little, but still she nods, determined, and reaches down between them. 

“Here, I’ll just…” Zelda shifts closer, drawing her legs up higher, one hand on Link’s waist, the other curled around him, guiding him until he’s pressed warmly against where she’s wet and yielding. “Now, you… slowly…” 

Link does as he’s told, carefully inching forward with his hips, his gaze fluctuating nervously from her face to where they’re joined. Zelda inhales sharply at the sudden stretch, the unfamiliar sensation of being slowly filled, and she squeezes her eyes closed, willing herself to breathe into it. 

She whimpers a little in discomfort as he pushes into her further, and Link immediately freezes. “Am I hurting you? Should I stop?”

“No, no—keep going.” Zelda nudges his lower back with her heel to encourage him, tightly gripping his upper arms. “Just—gently…”

Link eases in until his hips nudge her inner thighs, stilling and sighing once their bodies are flush and he’s inside her to the hilt. Zelda wraps her arms around his neck, pushing her face into his shoulder, breathing shallowly, slightly afraid to move. 

“Is this—are you—” Link’s voice is choked, his breath hot against her neck. “What can I do?”

He shifts his weight, trying to adjust, and Zelda can’t help crying out a little in surprise, overwhelmed by so much of him. “Wait, wait, just—” She re-angles her hips, her lower back raising off the mattress, and Link snakes his hand under her and pulls her closer and— “ _Oh_.”

When Zelda’s eyes snap open, Link’s face is inches from hers, flushed and anxious. “Is this okay?”

Zelda nods frantically, crossing her ankles at the base of his spine. “Yes, just—slowly, please.” 

He doesn’t move just yet, shakily bringing his free hand up to brush the hair from her face, dropping his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. “I love you,” he murmurs. “You know that, right?” 

“I know.” The words catch in her throat, choked by sudden tears, overcome by the intensity of the moment. She threads her fingers into his hair, one arm still around his neck to keep him close. “I love you too.”

Link kisses her as he starts to move; just tiny circular motions of his hips, but Zelda feels it  _everywhere_. She gasps against his mouth, clinging to him tighter, all of her blood rushing straight to her center as she instinctively pushes against him. He draws his hand out from under her to brace himself on the mattress again, trembling with the effort of keeping his weight off her and his movements small.

“It’s okay,” she’s saying, a little lost in the headiness and scent of him. “You won’t hurt me.”  

“Never,” Link whispers, his hand curling over her hip. “I’ll never hurt you.” 

He’s still slow, still gentle, a little muddled and unsure, but the sheer size of him sets her every nerve alight. It’s all new friction in all new places, the skin of Link’s neck dewy and flushed with exertion when she presses her face against it, toes curling and heat pulsing inside her with every careful thrust. 

Link groans into her hair, running his hand from her waist down to her thigh and back again. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs. “How are you so soft?”

He sounds so incredulous, so awed, that it makes Zelda laugh, which in turn makes Link laugh even as he clumsily continues to move, and something about that—how they’re still themselves, even like this—makes everything better, more natural, the two of them falling into a rhythm, and soon their laughter dwindles down to quiet breaths and moans, their bodies rolling against each other in an easy slide.

Link’s movements are measured and undemanding until he angles himself in such a way that has her  _mewling_ , and then one of his hands suddenly grips her hip, pinning her to the mattress. It’s the first possessive gesture he’s made all night, and it makes her ache, warmth flooding her body, clenching slick and tight around him. 

“Gods,  _Zelda_ ,” he rasps, fingernails biting into her skin.

“Keep going,” she urges, and moans as he hastens, trying to buck up against him but he’s still holding her down. She isn’t close but she doesn’t care, just revels in the weight of him, the heat of him, the way he brokenly gasps her name against her neck.

“Zelda.” He’s panting and keening, his fingers almost bruising. “I can’t—what should I—”

Catching on immediately, Zelda tightens her legs around his waist. “Don’t stop— _don’t stop_.” 

His core muscles are tight and Zelda can feel it as he presses up against her, gasping from the sheer force of it when Link sinks deep into her with a low, shuddering exhale. He rocks his hips a little, whining, slowly riding it out until he goes quiet, folding himself over her as he seeks out her lips, sighing into it when she tilts her head up to kiss him.

She misses him immediately when he withdraws, but he doesn’t move from his position above her. She had half-expected him to be drowsy afterwards, so she’s surprised when he kisses her with renewed vigor, mouth moving insistently against hers, only drawing away to let her breathe. “What can I do?” he whispers.

“What?” Zelda says, lightheaded from the kiss and everything else.

“I couldn’t—” Link tries. “You didn’t…” 

“Oh.” Zelda flushes, understanding. “It’s—it’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Link says earnestly, and kisses her again, shifting to lie beside her, still leaning over her to cradle her face. She doesn’t stop him when his hand begins to move, over her breast, over her torso and midsection, and when his fingers dip down between her legs her entire body trembles.

“Please,” Link murmurs. “Show me—show me how to touch you.”

He’s so sweet and eager and Zelda’s body is still hot and thrumming with unfinished business, so she guides his fingers until they brush that delightful bundle of nerves she discovered back in her early teens. “Feel that?” she asks.

“Yes,” Link replies breathlessly. 

Zelda curls her fingers into his hair. “Pay attention to it.”

He’s mindful of every noise she makes, every breath, immediately heeding her instructions of  _faster_  and  _softer_  and  _up a little, yes, there_ until she finds herself grasping her breast with her free hand, her body rolling up into the friction. His gaze flickers from her face to between her legs, so enthralled he seems to have stopped breathing, and when he leans down to take her untouched nipple into his mouth, Zelda’s head falls back with a cry.

“Almost,” she gasps, “almost— _almost_ —”

Link doesn’t change the pace of his fingers, continues lavishing attention to her breast until she’s reduced to incoherent whimpers and mindless twitching, and then he raises his head, lays his forehead against her temple, the tip of his nose brushing her cheek. He doesn’t say anything, just breathes softly against her neck, but that’s more than enough somehow.

“Link,” she says, a plea and a warning. “ _Link_.”

“Please,” Link whispers, and Zelda’s voice breaks on a moan as she reaches down to grasp his hand and hold it still even as she writhes, crying out and grinding up against the pressure of Link’s calloused fingers, consumed by the rush of blood and endorphins as her climax overcomes her.

She sinks down into the bed afterwards, panting hard, giggling weakly as Link peppers her neck and shoulder with kisses. “Was that good?” he asks, mouth pressed against her collarbone. 

“It was perfect.” She threads her fingers into his hair again, pulling his head up to look at him. “You were perfect. All of it. All of you.” 

He kisses her, slow and lingering, and they lie for a while with their legs tangled together, kissing and touching until they begin to drift off. Link slips out of bed to turn down the lamps, pulling the sheets up over them and curling his body around hers when he joins her again.

“You looked so pretty on your back like that,” Link says quietly. She can almost feel the heat of his blush against her neck. “I could watch you do that all day.”

“Mm,” Zelda says sleepily, smiling. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Almost half-asleep, she feels Link’s hand travel up her body to close over her breast. He makes no move to arouse her, doesn’t pinch or tease—he just holds her like that, the gesture natural and comforting. Link pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to the soft spot just below her ear, and Zelda thinks, a little smug, that she won’t have to push again.


End file.
